


Nostalgia

by zombs



Series: Zombs!Verse [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:33:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29932785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombs/pseuds/zombs
Summary: Jonathan Crane has long been retired and enjoying the solitude, as he is one of the few surviving rogues of the original Batman. His retirement is interrupted when a familiar face-- one so very similar to his old lovers'-- stops by for a visit... and to learn more about who her father really was.Part of my own little Batman universe.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma, Nina Damfino/Edward Nygma/Diedre Vance
Series: Zombs!Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2201364
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Jonathan Crane had come to enjoy the solitude in his retirement. Settled far from the city, in a small farmhouse on acres of land, he had slowly grown old and gray. He sat in his old worn armchair, a book in his hands and a hot cup of tea set just beside him. His wrinkled fingers wrapped around the small handle of his cup and he slowly lifted the cup to his lips as his eyes scanned the snow laden fields jus outside his window. The solitude– what others might call loneliness– was comforting to Jon. He never did miss the city.

He was startled from his thoughts as his doorbell rang. His hand faltered as his body jumped at the noise, spilling a bit of tea on his lap. Muttering curses under his breath, he set the teacup down then marked his place in his book. He rose slowly from his armchair, moving slowly to the front door. His once-agile body creaked and groaned in defiance.

He wondered to himself who this could be. He would have the occasional visitor– usually Ivy– but she had been over just a few days ago. Other visitors were uncommon; a quiet discussion over a cup of tea was all the social interaction Jonathan needed, and Ivy filled that role nicely. Tetch had also been a visitor for many years, but his appearances had slowed in the past year. Just last week, Ivy had given Jon the news of his passing. He and Ivy were the only ones left now.

Few of them had lived long. Penguin had died of a heart attack just over ten years ago; Clayface’s body had deteriorated within a decade of his making; Freeze had long ago disappeared with his wife, his fate still unknown; and perhaps most fittingly, Joker had been shot and killed by an angry citizen just six years ago.

Harley, who had sometimes joined Ivy in her visits to Jonathan, had passed a few years back. She and Ivy had had many good years together before cancer took her.

And then of course there was Eddie. But Jonathan wouldn’t let his mind return to his old lover, the pain the memories brought were often too much for him to bear. Jonathan stole a brief glance at the golden question mark cufflinks that sat dusty on his mantel as he stepped into the main hall.

He opened the door as the visitor rang the doorbell again and began to knock. His eyes fell first upon the familiar red hair, then were instantly drawn to the questioning blue eyes seated on a face dappled with freckles. Jonathan froze for a moment, as his heart skipped in his chest… As memories of the young man he’d loved and lost flooded his mind.

The young woman before him searched his face with the same curious eyes he had seen so many years ago.

“Doctor Jonathan Crane? I’m here to talk about my father.”

Jonathan remained silent for several seconds, his mind both drowning in memories from the past, and struggling to fully comprehend what the woman before him had just said. His instinct was to shut the door– after all he had sworn to her mother that he would never speak to her, let alone discuss her father. As he started to push the door closed, the woman’s hand flung up against the wood.

“Wait! Please, I know you were friends. I just want to know more about him.” She met his blank stare with a fiery determination– an expression he recognized all too well from both her mother and father. It was in this moment that he truly looked at her, quietly examining her features. Genetics had seemingly split her parents contributions by color and structure. Her skin, hair, and eyes were an almost exact replica of her father’s, and her jawline, cheekbones and nose her mother’s. Her brow, furrowed as she met his gaze, was a little of each.

“I made a promise to your mother that I would not be involved in your life, and I plan to keep that promise,” he replied. She huffed and her brow furrowed.

“You’re a lying, I know my moms couldn’t afford the gifts I got, and it certainly wasn't their money that is putting me through college… I’m not an idiot. I traced it all back to you, and I want answers.”

 _I’m not an idiot, Jon._ Crane felt a twinge in the corner of his eye as the words echoed in his mind. Words that were so familiar and yet almost forgotten.

“Trust that you do not want those answers, child. Some things are better left unknown. Now please remove your hand from the door.”

“I know you were close,” she replied quietly. “I know… You lived together, you worked together. I know how he died– how he took his own life in a heist. I just want to know more than what the newspapers tell me. I want to know who he was, really. Please. I want to know what Edward Nashton was really like.”

The name, spoken aloud, prompted a temporary weakness on Jonathan. He looked sternly down at her, before weighing the costs of his next move. After a short hesitation, he sighed and opened the door, stepping inside to let her in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: suicide mention, child abuse mention

Jonathan brought two cups of tea from the kitchen, setting them down on the coffee table in front of the young woman before reclaiming his seat in the old armchair. She thanked him softly and reached for her cup, bringing it to her lips and blowing it to cool. Jon slowly lowered himself into the worn leather and leaned back, watching as the woman’s curious eyes scanned the few decorations in the room. They landed on the dusty cufflinks briefly, and Jon cleared his throat to bring her attention back to him.

“What do you want to know?” He asked coolly, his unwavering gaze fixed on her. She placed her cup down after a sip and smiled nervously.

“I realize I didn’t introduce myself… I figure you probably know my name, but as a formality–” she paused, expecting him to cut in and confirm her suspicions, but he remained silent. “It’s Emma,” she said with a brief smile. “Emma Vance.”

There was another awkward silence as she waited for some sort of reaction. When none came, she laughed nervously and let her eyes wander around the room again.

“I kind of expected to find some mad scientist with a crazy lab… Unless that’s in your basement?” The attempt at humor was smothered with a deafening, cold silence.

“What do you want to know about Edward?” Jonathan repeated, keeping a stoic and rigid air. Though he retained his emotionless exterior, he could feel his own heart begin to beat rapidly as the name of his old lover passed his lips. It had been years since Jon had spoken of him, or even uttered his name. And the sound of his name spoken in Jonathan’s own voice brought back a flood of nostalgia. He was brought back from his own thoughts as Emma spoke up again.

“I’ve been reading everything I can find about him, but it’s all about the Riddler, not him. I want to know who he really was, what he was like. Not as the Riddler, but as a person.”

“Edward was a brilliant young man whose pompous, narcissist personality disorder underlaid by severe personal insecurities ultimately lead to his early and violent death. He wasted most of his life high on drugs, which only exacerbated his untreated mental illnesses, and made him insufferable.”

Emma took a moment to parse this information, and Jonathan reveled in her clear shock and confusion.

“Was that not what you wanted to hear?” Jonathan added, raising his eyebrow.

“I thought you were friends,” Emma finally replied. “Mom– uh, Diedre– said you lived together… That you were close.”

“We were.” Jonathan replied honestly. “But I’m not going to lie to you if you’re asking for answers.” She looked hurt, and Jonathan felt the slightest twinge of guilt. The truth was, what he had told was true, but it wasn’t the full story. That was Dr. Crane’s diagnosis, and it did not begin to scratch the surface of the complex relationship he had had with Eddie as Jonathan Crane.

He was insufferable at times, and Jonathan had often dreamt of strangling the younger man on particularly bad days. But there were also the softer moments, the vulnerable moments. Waking up in the morning to see him smiling– a rare, soft smile without the usual condescension– and the gentle kisses he would give. The look of appreciation when Jonathan caught him picking at his skin nervously and gently took his hand to stop it.

No, those moments were his, and his alone. He would not share them.

“Well… When you guys weren’t running around robbing banks or poisoning people, or… Whatever you did, what did he do?” She glanced again at the question mark cuff links before taking another sip of her tea.

“He liked to tinker. He was an engineer and an inventor. But that was all part of his work. I would say his hobbies included sleeping around and partaking in recreational drugs.” Emma frowned.

“What about family? Do I have any aunts or uncles?”

“No. He was an only child.”

Another silence hung heavily in the room. Jonathan could tell Emma was getting frustrated, and he was hoping she would leave. But part of him knew better… It wasn’t in her blood to give up.

“Please just tell me everything you know about him.”

Jonathan sighed deeply, he knew she wouldn’t go away that easily.

“It’s better not to know,” Jonathan warned.

“No it’s not, I want to know.”

“Fine. Where do you want to start,” he relented with a sigh as he took a sip of his tea. There was a brief silence as she considered the question.

“Did you know him growing up?”

“No.”

“Do you know anything about how he grew up? His parents, or where he was from?” Jonathan leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs.

“I thought you had looked everywhere for information about him. You should be able to find that online.”

“I did,” Emma protested, seemingly insulted. “I’ve looked everywhere, but it’s like he never existed, like… Edward Nashton was wiped from history. There’s nothing about him.”

Jonathan pondered this for a moment– he himself had found a lot of information on Eddie’s past online when they were younger. A small smile crept over his lips as realization dawned upon him. He remembered how upset Eddie was when Jon had found out about his tumultuous home life through some online archives. Appearances had been everything to him, and the stain of his childhood had been a vulnerability. Even in death, Eddie would do everything in his power to hide that weakness.

“Edward always was good with technology,” Jonathan wondered aloud. “Once he became Edward Nigma, he wanted to make sure Edward Nashton was dead and buried. He likely purged all records before his death.”

“Well… Do you know anything about how he grew up?”

“Yes.” An uncomfortable silence followed and Emma laughed nervously.

“Okay, well are you willing to share?”

“I can if you want, but it’s not pleasant.” He watched as Emma chewed her lip anxiously.

“I just… want to understand him. If you think it will help me with that, then I want to know.” Jonathan sighed deeply, Eddie’s childhood had certainly molded him. To understand him, she had to understand where he had come from.

“He grew up in the Narrows as an only child. His father was abusive to his mother, who suffered a psychotic break when he was young. Eight, maybe nine.” Jonathan watched Emma’s face fall quietly. “His mother tried to kill him and herself, but they both survived. She was committed to Arkham, and he was left with his father.” Jonathan let the information sink in for a moment before continuing.

“He suffered abuse at the hands of his father for years after– physical, emotional, and possibly more– until he ran away from home sometime in his teenage years. I don’t know any more than that. He was never keen on discussing it.”

“Are his parents… alive?” Emma asked quietly, her demeanor notably more somber now.

“No.” Jonathan had personally seen to Eddie’s father the night Eddie had died. And he had visited Eddie’s mother in Arkham sometime after Eddie had passed. Her mind had long been destroyed with the poison she had drunk. It was only a few years later that her physical body had finally relented and let her rest.

“Oh…” Emma’s leg bounced. “Well… How did you meet him?”

“I tried to experiment on him,” Jon replied coolly. “He was the only one that ever got away.” Jonathan smirked, a wicked and cruel smile. Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and cast her eyes away.

“Why him?”

“He was an easy target.” Jonathan paused and considered lying about the circumstances, but decided against it. She wanted to know the truth, she would get it. “He was a male escort at the time, and looked… Vulnerable.” There was no good way to explain what he meant. Only someone experienced with selecting victims could ever understand.

Jonathan watched as Emma unconsciously shuddered. Her body language screamed discomfort, and he couldn’t help but feel amused. She’d walked into the wolf den expecting a sick and ailing elder, but he still had teeth to bare. She swallowed thickly before asking her next question.

“How… How did he get away?”

Smart girl. Jon could tell she was taking mental notes, glancing at the exits and asking the right questions.

“He waited for the sedative to wear off, and was able to slip out of the binds I used on him. He then waited for an opportunity to leave and took it.” Jon picked up his pipe from the table next to him, and raised it slightly, “If you don’t mind?”

“No, that’s fine…” Emma said.

He lit the pipe and took a few puffs. “I learned a lot from that encounter– found a better knot and figured out a more effective drug for preventing a fight.”

Emma watched him closely, her heart thudding uncomfortably in her chest. She could tell he took a sick pleasure in her discomfort and nervousness. But even so, he was her last hope in learning more about her father. She wouldn’t let her fear get the better of her.

“How did he become part of Batman’s rogue gallery?”

“That I don’t fully know. He started with robberies and smaller heists, and at some point met your mothers. He started calling himself The Riddler, and changed his name. When your mothers joined him, they called themselves Query and Echo.”

“Yes… They’ve told me a little about that. He picked the names, one is a related to databases and the other is related to Linux. I know he was interested in computers and technology.”

“He was an engineer and tinkerer at heart, yes.” Jonathan puffed on his pipe thoughtfully. “One of his most useful qualities.”

“…What happened to him?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen the reports, he shot himself–”

“No, I mean what happened? How did he end up so… So…” She struggled to find the right word.

“Unhinged?” Jonathan offered. She nodded in agreement, that was a good word to describe him in the video she had seen. The footage that had been played over and over again on the news the night it had happened.

Jon looked out the window into the distance, pensive. He had asked himself that question so many times over the years, and he still didn’t have an answer.

“I suppose it was just a matter of time…” Jon sighed. “The trauma of his childhood, the drug abuse… When he accidentally killed someone, it broke him.”

"Wait... I don't understand. He was a rogue, doesn't his work kinda... Imply killing?" Emma picked up her tea again and held it to warm her hands. Her eyes were fixed intently on Jon as she waited for an answer.

"No," Jon started. He considered his wording carefully. "He wasn't a violent man-- not at the beginning. He was in it for the fame, mostly. He reveled in the attention." He chewed thoughtfully on the end of his pipe before puffing a few more times. "The first time he killed someone, it was an accident."

"What do you mean?"

"The traps he set were built to look threatening, and were quite dangerous... _If_ they were used as intended. But Edward never wanted to. Everything he ever did was only show, and it had a very targeted audience." Emma furrowed her brow in confusion.

"What audience?"

"Batman." Emma took a minute to process this, shaking her head.

"I don't understand... You mean he didn't take hostages to kill them?"

"No," Jon replied simply. "He only ever started taking hostages to get Batman's attention... It always worked."

"Why would he want Batman's attention? Isn't that the opposite of what he'd want?"

"For any sensible human being, yes, that would be ideal. But Edward wasn't swayed by sense, he was ruled by his desire to be noticed." Jon sighed. "It was all a game to him, up until that one particular job."

"When he killed someone?" Emma asked curiously. Jon nodded, coughing as he placed his pipe on the table beside him. He took a sip of his tea and cleared his throat, speaking with a gravelly voice.

"The coping mechanisms he had developed were self-destructive, and it escalated enough to start affecting his work. He had been building one of his 'death traps' while under the influence, and his work was sloppy. He nipped a wire, and it went unnoticed until the mechanism short-circuited... while it was occupied."

"...What happened?"

"He was monologuing on a stage, as he always did, right next to the hostage. Some water got on the exposed wire while he was talking, and the woman he had kidnapped was decapitated." A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he remembered the incident. "Blood got all over him. He managed to get out of the camera's view in time to vomit off-screen, but everyone saw it unfold. The damage had been done and his reaction sparked suspicions that he had always been bluffing."

Emma felt the hair on her body stiffen when she saw the grin pull at the edges of Jonathan's mouth as he described the morbid scene. His behavior again reminded her that the man she was with was quite dangerous... And likely deranged. She shifted in her seat again and resolved to focus on what information she could get about her father.

"So what, he just started killing people because he thought it made him look better?" Jon smirked and picked his pipe back up.

"No. He started killing people because he knew if he didn't, Batman would stop showing up." She frowned deeply.

"That's it? That's all he wanted? He killed people because he wanted Batman's attention?" She didn't understand, and Jonathan knew she never would.

"Yes, that's all he ever wanted. And with the threat of losing it, he became much more dangerous." There was a long silence as Emma tried to reconcile everything she had just heard. She ran her fingers through her hair anxiously as she tried to come up with something to say.

"I told you it was better left unknown," Jon said calmly. "Edward was not a good man." Emma stared down at her tea quietly.

"Do you think things would have been different if he had met me?"

"Yes," Jonathan replied without hesitation. "I believe we wouldn't be having this conversation." She lifted her eyes to meet his.

"You think he would still be alive?"

"No, I think you would be dead." He could tell the truth hurt, but she deserved to know.

"You think... He would have killed me?"

"I know he would have. You are undeniably his child. When hubris is your defining quality, having a living, breathing, and recognizable mistake is something that has to be addressed. There is a reason your mothers never returned to Gotham."

Jonathan could tell his words stung the younger woman. But life was cruel, and the truth was often undesirable. Jon considered it a lesson best learned early. He glanced at the cufflinks on his mantel before looking back at Emma. Her eyes had followed Jon's up to the golden question marks.

"Were those his?" She asked, standing to get a better look. Jonathon replied with a short nod as she approached them. "You kept them after all this time... Why?"

The truth was that it was all Jonathan had been able to take from their shared hideout the night he had died. The only memento that remained from their time together. He had kept them all these years because he couldn't let go of the only man he had ever truly cared for. It was the last part of him that remained, and Jonathan wanted it close.

"We were very good friends," Jonathan replied, watching as she picked them up to look at them. She placed them back on the mantel.

"Were you with him the day he died? Before he started recording, I mean."

"Yes."

"What was the last thing you said to him?"

_You are a fool, Edward._

"I don't remember." A long silence again blanketed the room. It was a somber silence, and Jonathan could feel Emma's anxious energy. "I think that is enough," Jon said finally. "I will see you to the door."

"Yeah, um... Thank you for being honest... And thank you for the tea." She looked over at him and flashed an uneasy smile. Jonathan's frown deepened, the smile was too much like Eddie's.

She walked to the door, Jon trailing slowly being her. He watched as she trekked down his gravel driveway and got into her car, then shut the door. He returned to the living room and picked up the cufflinks before settling back into his chair.

The grief crept into his body, like aches in his bones. He leaned forward, bowing his head, pressing his forehead against the fist that clasped the golden question marks. He could almost smell the overpowering cologne and hair gel, a faint memory buried so deeply in his mind that he had almost forgotten.

For the first time in many years, Jonathan Crane closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember.


End file.
